


Comfort

by youwerefantasticrose



Category: Doctor Who, Roski - Fandom, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youwerefantasticrose/pseuds/youwerefantasticrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a horrific trip with the dimension cannon, Loki comforts a distraught Rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

Pete has to lead her up to the door, she’s shaking so hard. He takes her keys from her, fighting to unclench them from her hands.

“Rose,” he says, unlocking the door. She keeps her eyes on the ground. “Jumping is getting too dangerous. I think—”

She steps in the doorway, her back to him, and he stops, shaking his head. “Just get some rest.”

She closes the door, and she sinks to the floor, her breath coming in short gasps, her whole body shaking uncontrollably. 

fire, shouting, covered in blood, not her own, she can’t tell whose, so much pain everywhere, so many monsters, and absolutely no hope

The images of the world she’d landed in come unbidden to her mind, and she chokes out a sob. Her mind can’t form words, just the images and the sensations and the pain, and it’s too much, too much and she feels like she’s broken, falling apart in an irreparable way. 

“Rose?”

She doesn’t look up, can’t look up, can’t feel, can’t think, just sees that place. Hell.

He’s next to her, and there’s blood everywhere, all over her, and he’s panicking, tearing off her clothes to find the wounds. He exhales in short-lived relief, that she’s fine, physically fine, but he’s scared. 

He touches her, and she’s dimly aware of his arms, of being lifted. He carries her to the bathroom, setting her on the edge of the bathtub. She vaguely hears the water turn on, and he stands her up, guiding her under the warm spray. Her underwear soaks through, and the water on the floor runs red. She stands there unmoving, eyes blank, still shaking. The water bounces off her uselessly, stubborn blood still staining her skin. 

He turns his back to leave, to give her privacy. He gets as far as the doorway. 

“Loki,” she says, and it’s barely a word, more like a strangled sound, but he’s back in a flash, standing next to the open shower, unsure of what to do. But she looks at him, and her eyes are wide, full of fear and pain and chaos, and he steps in with her, wrapping his arms around her, his thin t-shirt soaking through with hot water and her tears. She sags into him, sobbing, leaning on him with all her weight, and he holds her up, one hand gripping her tight, the other stroking her wet hair.

“It’s okay, Rose. You’re okay,” he repeats, over and over, until her breathing calms and the shaking slows. She straightens up a little, standing on her own, and he pulls back, running his hands over her, gently cleaning off the sweat and the blood and the fear.

He turns off the water, and steps out, dripping on the floor. He grabs a towel, and wraps her in it, taking her hand and guiding her out of the shower. He leads her to her room, sitting her down, rummaging through her drawers and pulling out a shirt and shorts, laying them next to her. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says, and she nods.

When he returns a few minutes later in dry clothes, she’s in the same spot, but dressed.

He sits next to her, folding his hands in his lap.

She’s quiet. So is he.

He reaches out a hand and places it between them. She waits, then takes it, focusing on it, his cool skin, his fingers twined with hers, an anchor.

“It’s late,” he says after a while, standing up. “You need sleep.” He drops her hand and her heart drops with it, beating double time as she begins to shake again. She can’t be alone, not right now, not in the dark. 

He’s halfway down the hall when she summons her voice.

“Wait.”

It’s quiet, shaky, but he hears it. He comes back, and she looks so small, so scared, eyes wide and full of tears. He can’t bear it.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispers, shuddering. He shakes his head; no, never. 

He pulls up a chair next to the bed, and she crawls under the sheets. He touches her shoulder, and she closes her eyes.

screaming and blood and flames and death, everywhere death and there’s nothing she can do, she can’t save anyone, it’s all wrong

Her eyes fly open and he’s there, kneeling in front of her, hands on her shoulders, it’s alright, i’m here, you’re safe, you’re safe.

She reaches for him, like a scared child, and he holds her, soft words in her ear, soothing strokes down her back. She holds on tight, focusing on his voice, his smell, his warmth, to keep away the nightmares, to keep away the pain. She pulls him down, onto the bed, and please, stay, please. 

He does. He holds her, arms around her, low voice in her ear, singing her to sleep. He stays.


End file.
